How to Handle the Nuisance Neighbour (and Your Anxious Thoughts)
Imagine you’re at a wedding. The atmosphere is lovely, the food smells great, and you’re ready to enjoy the evening—except you’re seated next to your nuisance neighbour.
Now, this man isn’t a bad person. You don’t dislike him exactly, but he is utterly exhausting. Whatever you say, he takes the opposite view. You’re left-wing? He’ll argue the right-wing perspective. You like football? He’ll tell you why rugby is superior. You’ve been to New York once? He’s been twice. Breakfast is your favourite meal? He prefers dinner—and will explain why in painful detail.
He isn’t looking for conversation; he’s looking for a win. He must have the last word. And tonight, you’re stuck next to him. There’s no seat change, no early exit, and ignoring him only makes him louder. You could try explaining that you don’t want to argue, but he’ll argue about not arguing. You could snap at him, but that just escalates things.
So—what can you do?
Well, let’s ask: What’s the opposite of arguing?
Try Humouring Him
What happens if, instead of resisting, you agree with everything he says?
Let him win. Nod along. Agree wholeheartedly—even when he’s clearly wrong. “You’ve been to New York five times? Wow, amazing!” “Dinner is better than breakfast? Absolutely—who needs eggs, right?”
Eventually, if you don’t take the bait, he’ll either tire of the game or move on to a more willing opponent. You haven’t lost anything by humouring him—you’ve simply chosen peace over pointless confrontation.
Now, Replace the Neighbour with Your Own Thoughts
This scenario is a brilliant metaphor for how we often handle worry and anxiety. Anxious thoughts behave just like the nuisance neighbour. They pop up uninvited, pick arguments with everything you believe, and refuse to let you relax. And just like your neighbour, if you engage with them, they drag you into a spiral.
But what if you humoured those thoughts instead of arguing with them?
How to Humour Worrying Thoughts
When a worry appears, instead of wrestling with it, try the following approach:
1. Acknowledge the thought.
Say to yourself, “Ah, there’s that familiar thought again.”
2. Humour it.
Accept it, and then playfully exaggerate it.
For example, one of my clients used this approach with great success. She struggled with anxiety that showed up as weak legs—particularly during work meetings where she felt claustrophobic. Instead of panicking or resisting the sensation, she accepted it. Then, she exaggerated it to the point of absurdity:
“I imagined myself standing up in the meeting… and my legs literally falling off. I collapsed into the table. Tea and coffee flew everywhere. I smacked my head and had to wear a massive cartoon-style bandage. And of course, my photo ended up in the company newsletter!”
This mental image made her laugh—and it broke the anxiety’s hold on her. By making the thought ridiculous, she took back control. Over time, the weak-leg feeling lost its power. It became just another opportunity to troll the troll in her own mind.
Troll the Troll (That Lives in Your Head)
Your anxious thoughts are like internal trolls. They feed on your engagement. If you respond, they argue harder. If you ignore them, they poke louder. But if you agree and playfully blow their ideas out of proportion, they lose interest.
Important note: Humouring thoughts is not the same as catastrophising. You’re not predicting disaster—you’re making the thought so over-the-top that it becomes funny, not frightening.
Reclaim Your Response
What my client demonstrated so powerfully is that you can choose your reaction. When you respond consciously, you’re no longer at the mercy of old mental habits or subconscious fears. You shift from victim of anxiety to observer and participant—with a sense of humour.
You stop being dragged into every pointless mental argument. And like sitting next to that neighbour, you realise: you can’t always change the situation—but you can absolutely change your response to it.
Let me help you put to bed those worrying thoughts, contact me here
Tim Grover - Bedfordshire Therapies 